Revelations and Recovery
by BlueGryphon
Summary: Harry is surprised when Snape pulls him out of his miserable habitation at the Dursleys during the summer before sixth year, and disgusted when he finds out they'll be stuck together all summer. Also features Mark Evans. NOT SLASH OR SEVERITUS! Harry a
1. Default Chapter

"I need you to go to check on Harry, Severus," Dumbledore said seriously. "He's not been answering any of the letters that his friends have been sending him, and we're worried that he's being abused by his aunt and uncle."  
"Potter? Abused? Unlikely, but why me? You've got that Squib, Figg, living in the same road. She can do it, it's her job to do these menial and dreary tasks."  
"Arabella Figg is unable to get inside the house, and I have forbidden Harry to leave it. That poses a slight problem for her, does it not?"  
"That'll be why Potter is acting like a three year old having a tantrum then. He's too arrogant to understand that he's confined for his own safety."  
"Severus, I trust you. You're one of the only people I feel will be able to make an impartial and informed judgement whatever you see. I'm going to have to insist upon this."  
  
That had been in the morning, and it was evening now. Severus Snape was feeling hard done by. Why had he ever agreed to this stunt, rather than making someone like that idiot Tonks do it instead? 'Go and check on Harry' Dumbledore had said. He might just as well have said go to the moon at this rate. Potter wasn't allowed out of the house, and there was no way a wizard would be invited in to such a disgustingly Muggle household.  
  
He sighed. As far as he could see there was only one possible method to proceed. He must fly in and look through Potter's window. How juvenile did that sound? Really, it was something brats like the Weasley twins would delight in, but no self-respecting wizard would even dream of it. He'd borrowed one of the school brooms for the night, not that it was up to much even compared to a Nimbus let alone a Firebolt. It was only then that Severus realized that he didn't know exactly which bedroom was Potter's.  
  
Sneering at his own incompetence - maybe Gryffindor stupidity was catching - he renewed his Disillusionment charm and swerved in to check the first of the upstairs windows. Moving back the curtains with a flick of his wand, he saw an enormously huge man sleeping with his horse faced wife. Muggles were so disgustingly ugly. This must be the aunt and uncle, despite neither of them bearing any resemblance to either Harry or Lily. The next room that he came to contained a grossly overweight boy, Potter's cousin supposedly, snoring loudly in a bed surrounded by piles of the most expensive toys available.  
  
That meant that the next room must be Potter's. If Dumbledore knew the amount of effort that this mission was taking. Why oh why couldn't he have sent his pet werewolf or one of the many Muggle-loving Weasleys? Severus pulled his broomstick up sharply. This couldn't be Potter's bedroom! There were bars on the window, for one thing, and no curtains. The door, as he could see with very little effort, was bolted shut from the outside, and the bed was surrounded with old, broken toys that were covered in dust. It wasn't quite the sort of room he'd envisioned for the 'Boy Who Lived', but he was sure that the discipline would do him good if he couldn't be bothered to keep his own room tidy.  
  
But it was.  
  
On the bed lay a boy that was unmistakably Harry Potter, although he looked thinner than Severus remembered him to be, and he was tossing restlessly around in his sleep, muttering to himself. Suddenly he screamed and shot up, white faced and trembling. He was facing Severus now, although Severus was intelligent enough to have maintained his Disillusionment charm even though Potter was reputed to be blind without his glasses. Severus could see tears were pouring silently down the boy's cheeks, the wimp.  
  
The door burst open and Potter's uncle stood framed in the doorway. Snape watched as Potter swiftly wiped his face with his sleeve, the disgusting boy.  
"Shut your bloody noise!" Dursley yelled so that Severus could hear him easily even through the glass. "Do that one damn time more and I'm sending you back to your old bedroom, understand?"  
"Yes Uncle Vernon," Potter replied quietly, Severus had to read his lips to catch that, and he could see that the boy's eyes were like daggers.  
  
Vernon Dursley stomped out, banging the door shut behind him and slamming the bolts shut again. Potter huddled down in bed, crying again. Severus had no sympathy for him whatsoever. If Potter had concentrated on learning Occlumency instead of rifling through his memories, he wouldn't be having nightmares about Voldemort's nighttime activities.  
  
Severus decided that he'd seen enough, and returned to report to Dumbledore. There was nothing wrong with Potter at all, he was just getting a taste of the discipline that he deserved.  
  
Dumbledore was more concerned, unfortunately.  
"He was having a nightmare?" the Headmaster asked.  
"Yes," Severus replied.  
"About Voldemort?"  
"How am I supposed to know Albus? He didn't exactly tell me about it!"  
"Severus!" Dumbledore said, appearing shocked at the unusual outburst.  
"I apologize sir, it's been a long night for me."  
"Of course, of course. I want you to see if you can get into the house next time. It should be educational for you at the very least. I will arrange a dinner invitation for you."  
"Professor!" Severus moaned, then caught himself. How did this old man make him feel fifteen again every time he was stupid or was told to do something he didn't want to do? If there was one thing he hated, as all of the staff should know by this time, it was formal meals.  
"I'm serious Sev. If Harry is having visions again, we must know and he has cut off all contact. He doesn't even write to Ron Weasley or Hermione Granger any more."  
"Its about time. They're a bad influence on each other."  
"Just the same as Quintus and Cassandra were to you," Dumbledore said sharply.  
"Albus!" the harsh potions master said, his face crumpling. "You promised!"  
"Oh Severus, I'm so sorry."  
  
By the time the contacts had been set up, Severus Snape had recovered his composure, and was reluctantly going to attend a business dinner at the house of Mr Vernon Dursley.  
  
~~~~~~Harry's POV~~~~~~~  
  
Harry sighed, history appeared to be repeating itself. His uncle was mad at him, yes, that had happened before more than once. Dudley had abandoned his diet, that was no surprise at all. He'd been threatened with his cupboard, yet again, and a businessman was coming to dinner. A typical birthday for your average teenager.  
"Let's run through tonight's schedule," Uncle Vernon said briskly, as he always did when they had prospective customers to dinner, especially the ones that were rich and he hoped to get huge orders from.  
"Our guest's name is Monsieur Rogue (very clever ~ this is Snape's name in the French books, no?), he's French Petunia, so remember that. He's not married, so he will be unaccompanied, of course. We should all be in position at eight o'clock, since I told him half seven in his invitation. Petunia, you will be -?"  
"In the lounge," Aunt Petunia answered promptly. "Waiting to welcome him graciously to our humble home."  
"Good, good, and Dudley?"  
"I'll be waiting to open the door." Dudley put on a foul, simpering smile. "May I take your coat, Mr Rogue?"  
"He'll love my darling Popkins!" cried Aunt Petunia rapturously. Uncle Vernon looked stern.  
"Monsieur Rogue, Dudley," he corrected. Then he rounded on Harry. "And you?"  
"I'll be in my bedroom, making no noise and pretending I'm not there," said Harry tonelessly, trying not to fall asleep while all this was going on. Really, it was too much to ask him to stay in his room all evening and be silent. Merlin! He was a teenager, after all.  
"Make sure you remember it, boy," said Uncle Vernon nastily. "I will lead him into the lounge, introduce you Petunia, and pour him a drink. At eight fifteen - "  
"I'll announce dinner," continued Aunt Petunia as she always did on these occasions.  
"And Dudley, you'll say - "  
"May I take you through to the dining room Monsieur?" said Dudley, offering his fat arm to an invisible man. Harry thought that if he tried to be any sweeter (he was failing miserably) he'd be less sweet than a dead rat.  
"No! No!" Uncle Vernon exclaimed. Stressy, stressy, thought Harry smugly. You really should remember to keep your temper if you want to get the most out of your subordinates (a quote from one of the many books Hermione had sent him over the last few weeks).  
"May I show you the way through, Monsieur?" Dudley said dully, correcting himself, as he knew he was meant to. Was there anyone who actually liked these business dinners? Harry was confined to his room, Dudley had to pretend to be a normal, polite boy (very hard for a potential mass murderer in Harry's opinion), Vernon had to suck up and Petunia had to cook extravagant meals herself, instead of getting Harry to do it.  
"Better," Uncle Vernon conceded. Then he asked viciously. "And you?"  
"I'll be in my room making no noise and pretending I'm not there," Harry said, running on automatic now.  
"Precisely. Petunia, you and Dudley should go and change now. Mummy's put your dinner jacket on your bed, Dudders, so it'll be neat for you. And you," he snarled at Harry. "Stay out of our way!"  
  
Harry trooped upstairs, knowing that he was going to miss his supper for the third time that week. He took a seat leaning against the wall of the landing, in a small alcove from which he could see what was happening downstairs without (he hoped) being seen himself.  
  
The doorbell rang at precisely eight o'clock. Harry stayed seated in his niche, and picked up his cousins unused French dictionary. Knowing that the visitor was French, he had decided that he'd have it just in case something was said that he didn't understand. A French visitor was a novelty, most of them were just fat businessmen much the same as Uncle Vernon, and Harry had no interest in them at all. After all, this might be the only entertainment he'd get all summer!  
  
Dudley sprang forwards and pulled open the door.  
"May I take your coat, Monsieur Rogue," Dudley said helpfully. Harry almost choked, he wondered how Dudley managed to avoid being bottom of his class with such an atrocious accent. The man handed it to him, saying with a very pronounced French accent - not a fake then, Harry thought.  
"Merci, thank you âne, zat is ver kind." Harry looked up âne quickly, assuming it was French because it was so unfamiliar to him. Donkey? Hardly polite. Who was this guy anyway, he obviously had some style if he dared to insult Harry's family to their faces. They deserved it too.  
  
Uncle Vernon led the rude Frenchman towards the lounge, and, for a split second the tall dark man looked up. Harry gasped as he saw the head beginning to move, and shrank backwards, but it was too late. He'd been seen. His jaw dropped as his bright green eyes met a pair of pitch black ones that were all too familiar. Harry scrambled and dived for the safety of his room. What on earth was Professor Snape doing buying drills? Had Dumbledore sent him? Was he doing it for Voldemort? Was Harry going to be sent to Azkaban for causing his godfather's death?  
  
~~~~~~Sev's POV~~~~~~~  
  
Severus, or Monsieur Rogue as he was now calling himself, shook his head disbelievingly. Harry Potter, hiding, scared stiff by the thought of being seen, studying with a dictionary!? The world must be coming to an end if stupid, know it all Potter was choosing to study without Granger standing over him with a wand.  
"This is a delightfully small family," he commented blandly. "In my house in la belle France, zer are twelve of us. It is absolut chaos."  
"Yes, three is a good number," Vernon said appreciatively. "Dudley has lots of friends in the neighborhood, so he is perfectly content being the only child in the house. Children are so much sturdier if they have their parents full attention for the whole of their lives, especially when they're young." Severus tried not to gag at the thought of gross Dudley being described as sturdy, and attempted not to think about the kind of mudblood friends the boy would have. But why hadn't the man mentioned Potter, he did live here, didn't he?  
"But please," Petunia gushed. Severus sighed inwardly. "Tell us more about France, we're dying to hear about it. I've always wanted to go abroad."  
"Your wish is my command, Madame," he forced himself to say gallantly, however dryly.  
  
The evening dragged on and on for Severus. He wondered what Potter would be doing upstairs, and excused himself from the table.  
"Excusez moi," he said politely. "Ave you une toilette?"  
"Yes of course. Upstairs, the first door on your right," Petunia said automatically, although Vernon looked concerned.  
"Zank you."  
  
Snape walked up the stairs, pulled out his wand and pressed it lightly to Potter's door. There was no light in the room, because the ceiling bulb had been removed, and as the door became a one way window, Severus could see Potter kneeling on the floor with a torch, next to a bed so neat that it appeared unslept in. The boy's books were spread out on a ragged carpet and he was scribbling desperately on a piece of parchment. The books, which Severus had assumed were school textbooks from what he could see, appeared to have covers resembling those of Muggle novels. Had Potter transfigured them?  
  
Severus smiled thinly. At least the boy did some work during the holidays, if very little. He paused a few moments, then found the bathroom and flushed the toilet that had been his original reason for coming up.  
  
At last, he felt it safe to excuse himself, promising to call Vernon's company the next morning to place an order. As if! What use did a wizard have with a whole shipload of drills? 


	2. Chapter 2

"They didn't mention him once?" Dumbledore demanded.  
"No, just like I said before. They sensibly pretended that he didn't exist. I wish I could do the same sometimes, but unfortunately I can't."  
"This is serious, Severus. I want you to return tomorrow night, flying over as you did this first time. If you are still satisfied that he is being treated well, that will be the end of the matter. If not, I expect you to assess the situation and, if necessary, bring him immediately back to school."  
"Yes Albus," Severus agreed reluctantly.  
  
So Severus returned to Privet Drive just as he had before. Wasting no time, he went straight to Potter's window and looked in. The bed was empty. Severus swore violently under his breath. He knew that now he'd have to go in and find the boy before leaving - Dumbledore wouldn't' settle for anything less. He took a deep breath, and pulled out his wand from his pocket.  
"Vulnero," he muttered, tapping the bars. It wasn't perhaps the best charm he could have used, but it was as good as he could come up with on such short notice. When he'd removed the bars, he opened the window and climbed in. He felt like a teenager pulling a prank. As he'd thought before, this entire operation was exceedingly juvenile.  
  
Severus checked the bed first, in case he'd been mistaken. It hadn't been slept in. He crept outside and checked all of the other rooms on that floor. There was no sign of Potter. He must be downstairs then, since it was only a two-story house. Potter wasn't in the lounge, or the kitchen. In fact, having checked all of the rooms, the Potions master was almost ready to admit defeat. There was only one thing that he could still try.  
"Quaero," he muttered, putting his wand out in mid air. "Quaero Potterus."  
  
The wand spun around and Snape picked it up. Following its directions, he was led to a door underneath the stairs that he'd somehow overlooked before.  
"Alohamara!" The door swung open and he looked inside. It was as bad as a house elf's room in one of the stricter households, the Malfoys for instance, and full of cobwebs, dust and spiders that scuttled away from the light radiating from the wand. Curled up in a blanket on the floor was Harry Potter. Much as he regretted having to admit it, this wouldn't count as acceptable treatment in Dumbledore's books, however much the boy deserved it.  
"Silencio," said Severus, making sure that there'd be no noise when he woke Potter up. Then he shook the boy gently.  
  
~~~~~~~~Harry's POV~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Harry came awake instantly, wondering what on earth was happening. He groped around for his glasses and pushed them on, then blinked, seeing a chameleon like figure bending over him.  
"You?" he shouted, although it came out as a whisper that he could barely hear himself.  
"Me," the teacher said quietly. "I'm taking you out of here. Where are your things?"  
"Upstairs in Dudley's second bedroom, under the loose floorboard in the corner by the window," Harry said promptly. "The rest is here."  
"Wait here."  
  
Harry waited. To say that he was shocked would be an understatement. Never, even in his wildest dreams, had he imagined that it would be Snape that came to get him out. Lupin, Tonks, Moody, Arthur Weasley and even McGonagall had featured at one point or another, but the Potions master had ranked right down with Lucius Malfoy in his mind. The whole idea was ludicrous, but it was what was happening. Snape came back a moment later carrying Harry's invisibility cloak, Hedwig's cage, a bag of books and an elderly broomstick. Wordlessly, he jammed the books into Harry's trunk and shrunk it. Then he handed Harry one of Mrs. Weasley's jumpers and, once he'd pulled it on over his pyjamas, his Firebolt.  
"Not ideal," Snape said, looking at Harry. "But it will do."  
  
They walked out of the front door without the slightest worry. Suddenly, Harry had a thought.  
"Professor," he asked urgently. "What about Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia? Aren't you going to tell them?"  
"I left them a note, saying that you have been removed to a safe place for the duration of the holidays."  
"That'll just depress them. You should have said that I'd been kidnapped and was about to be tortured to death so I wouldn't be coming home next summer. It would have made their day."  
"What I wrote will be quite sufficient and has the added benefit of sticking strictly to the truth."  
"Yes sir," Harry said, not at all apologetic.  
"Potter! Stop!" he said sharply a few seconds later. Harry pulled to a stop within two seconds, but it took him a little longer.  
"Sir?" he asked, puzzled.  
"You're visible again. You didn't remove the Disillusionment Charm, did you?"  
"No sir, of course not. Why would I bother doing a thing like that when it would get me expelled?"  
"Shut up Potter. Someone must have removed it then," Snape said harshly. Harry watched, fidgeting to stop his fingers going numb, as he scanned the nearby houses. His gaze fixed on a silhouette showing in a window. "Who lives there?" Harry thought for a moment.  
"Mark Evans and his dad."  
"He's a boy? How old?"  
"Eleven now, I think. Dudley bullies him a lot, he'd one of his favourite targets."  
"Most likely it was him then. I'll have to go around to his house tomorrow to speak to him. Well, come along Potter, we must be going now or we won't be safely back before dawn."  
  
Harry swerved up closer while Snape replaced the charm, then he thought for a moment about the person, Mark, Snape had said, watching them leave. He waved cheerfully, as if the kid could see him. Slowly, shyly, the shadow waved back.  
  
Harry grinned broadly as he watched Snape flying on ahead of him. He was stiffly erect, and looking very uncomfortable on his broom. It was a bad one, he conceded, even by the school teaching standards, so maybe there was a chance that the teacher wasn't totally incompetent.  
  
~~~~~~~~~Sev's POV~~~~~~~~~~  
  
How tedious, Severus thought wearily. Not only had he had to bring Potter back with him and fly rather than Apparating most of the way, but he'd also have to check up on the Evans boy. To top it all, Potter even appeared to be enjoying himself, even though long distance night flying was never a pleasant experience.  
  
They arrived by the Entrance Hall three hours later, both sore, tired and going numb in places.  
"Come along Potter, it's too late to open a dormitory at this time of night. You'll have to come with me," Severus said sourly. Harry yawned and nodded, making surprisingly little protest. Maybe he was too tired. "Dobby!"  
  
The house elf appeared immediately at his call.  
"Yes Master?"  
"Potter requires a bed on the couch in my lounge. See to it, will you?"  
"Of course. Dobby can do that for Harry Potter. We are glad you are back, Master Harry."  
"It's good to be back, Dobby," Potter replied. Merlin! Did the boy know every student, teacher, house elf, portrait and creature living in the school?  
"Dobby is going now. It will be ready when you come down."  
  
The little creature vanished. Harry was smiling, but Severus glared at him.  
"House elves. Real pests."  
"They aren't Professor!" the boy protested. What did he know? He'd been brought up by Muggles, for goodness sake. "They do all of the chores that you don't want to do."  
"And that is their function, not offering opinions to wizards. Why Professor Dumbledore encourages him I really don't know."  
  
~~~~~~~~~Harry's POV~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Harry looked curiously around him as Snape led him down into the dungeons that were his territory. He pushed open a portrait and stepped into a simple lounge. As promised, the sofa had been made into a basic bed.  
"Bed, Potter, and don't you dare disturb me until morning." Harry gulped. He really didn't want to, but did Snape know about his nightmares? That he couldn't help them?  
"But Professor, if I have a nightmare. . ." he said, then flushed and paused before continuing. "I sometimes scream before I can stop myself."  
"I have certain advantages over your Muggle relatives Potter. I have set up silencing charms around my room already. Unless your scream can be heard from the Headmaster's tower, you will disturb no one. Now bed, not a word until morning."  
  
Harry watched as the Potions professor stalked through to the next room, a bedroom presumably. At any other time, he'd have been curious about his surroundings, but long flights in the middle of the night did nothing for his general awareness and he was all too happy to go straight to sleep. There would be time in the morning. 


	3. Chapter 3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Sev's POV ~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Severus woke early the next morning despite his late night (or early morning, because it had been dawn by the time they arrived. He dressed in his usual black robes and ate the breakfast that the house elves had left for him by his bed. This was his usual routine, and he saw no reason to break from it merely because of his unexpected guest. As he left, he glanced at Potter. The boy was sleeping peacefully for once, and showed no signs of waking any time soon. Satisfied, Severus continued up to the headmaster's office.  
"So you brought Harry back, Severus," the old teacher said. It wasn't a question. "You flew, I suppose."  
"Of course, it's the only way. He's still underage."  
"I am perfectly aware of that, thank you. Were you seen?"  
"Yes," he admitted sourly. "By a boy, Mark Evans if Potter is to be believed. He broke the Disillusionment Charm I had on Potter."  
"No worry there. Young Mark is coming to Hogwarts next term. I'd like you to go and see his father today, if you aren't too tired. The child might be in danger if Death Eaters come looking for Harry. See if you can persuade Mr. Evans to let you bring him here for the summer. I assure you he is an understanding man, very well informed. I'll have a Gryffindor dormitory opened for them."  
"Good. I don't want Potter staying in my chambers for the whole of August."  
"But I'm afraid Severus, that I'm going to have to request that you are the one to supervise Harry. I know that you don't get on, but I fear that I am away from the castle too much to make it tangible if I took on the responsibility myself. . ."  
  
Severys wasn't fooled for even one moment by this 'overrun old man' attitude. It was an act, he was sure of that. The day that Dumbledore couldn't handle five things at one with more attention and skill directed at each one than most wizards managed on one, would be the day that he died.  
"Why not Lupin?" he asked desperately. "Or Arthur Weasley? They actually like Potter."  
"That is precisely why I requested that you do it. Remus, much as I respect him, is, I fear, very close to permanently losing his sanity. He and Sirius were very close, and he feels devastated now. The Weasleys, all of them, would give Harry all of the sympathy and understanding that they could. They love him like an extra son."  
"Then send him to them!" Severus exclaimed, exasperated by this seeming stupidity.  
"Harry does not need any sympathy, nor does he want it. He got enough of that at school last summer to last him for the rest of his life. He needs to be treated as though he isn't a Muggle bomb set to explode at any moment, just as an ordinary boy. Having Mark Evans here might help that, and so would having you being your usual kind and considerate self."  
"All right, all right," he agreed, knowing that it was a lost cause. "I'll do it."  
"Thank you Severus," Dumbledore said, beaming all over his face. "Why don't you go and find Harry. I'm sure the house elves will have left his breakfast in your rooms. Send him up to me when he's eaten, the password to the office is Liquorice Allsorts."  
  
~~~~~~~~ Harry's POV ~~~~~~~~~  
  
Harry woke feeling totally refreshed. He thought he'd heard something, but it must have been his imagination, or possibly Snape leaving. He could tell immediately that he was back at Hogwarts - the atmosphere was unmistakable, even during the holidays and down in the dungeons. That reminded him. Shouldn't he be taking the once in a lifetime opportunity to look around the rest of Professor Snape's private rooms? He'd never even heard of anyone else being brought in there before.  
  
The lounge, where he was now, was as austere as he'd always imagined it to be. The walls were bare stone, there was an empty fireplace in one wall, the couch he was sleeping on, an armchair and a bookcase. That was it. There was no clutter, no personal belongings at all, except for a great number of photographs hanging on the wall above the fireplace.  
  
Harry got up and went to look at them. The largest one, hanging in the center, was of two teenagers. They were standing together, grinning at the camera with their arms around each other's shoulders. The boy, Harry knew, was Snape himself, although he looked almost handsome with his hair washed and glossy and his face scrubbed clean. The absence of a sneer also helped. The girl he was hugging was slightly shorter. Her black hair hung loosely down to her shoulders and her black eyes were sparkling above rosy cheeks. She seemed to be the common theme in all the pictures.  
"Potter! What are you doing?"  
  
Harry swung around guiltily. Of all the moments for Snape to walk in. . .  
"Sir, I was just looking, honest I was. Uh, sir, if you don't mind me asking, who is she?" Even hating Snape as he did, he could see that he'd given the Potion's Master a shock. He was even paler than he usually was, and breathing heavily.  
"That was my sister, Cassandra," he said at last, rather reluctantly. "She's dead, even though she wasn't a bloody mindedly noble Gryffindor like you parents."  
"I'm sorry," Harry said, surprised to find out that he really meant it and sympathized greatly. "Is that Sirius she's with in that one?"  
  
He was pointing at a small picture, hanging high up on the wall. Snape sighed, resigned to answering even if he wasn't sure that he liked the answers.  
"Yes, that's Black. They were engaged for a year. They would have been married the week after the Dark Lord had her killed."  
"Sirius?!?! Engaged!!!"  
"Yes. Cass was Evans's best friend. She was in Ravenclaw, not Slytherin of course."  
"Mum's friend?" Harry asked, just for confirmation. He knew about his dad's friends, but he'd never heard anything about who his mum had liked.  
  
Professor Snape nodded, then said curtly,  
"Your breakfast is on the table. I have to go now, the headmaster has requested that I speak to Mr. Evans, if you remember. As soon as you're presentable, Professor Dumbledore wants to see you in his office. The password is Liquorice Allsorts."  
"Yes, Professor," Harry said, already searching the wall for more pictures of Sirius and Lily.  
  
After the teacher had left, walking towards the edge of the Hogwarts anti- Appartion wards, Harry realized just how rare it was for Snape to make such open remarks. Harry was glad he had though. He had a certain amount of insatiable curiosity about his parents, and always wanted to know more about them even though he knew he'd never meet them. Still, if Snape had had a sister in Ravenclaw, maybe things wouldn't be so bad this summer. They couldn't be worse than at the Dursleys, of course, and all the Hogwarts' food was out of comparison. He'd be able to play Quidditch when he wanted, study, sleep in, eat as much as he wanted; yes, life was definitely looking up. 


	4. Chapter 4

* * * * Sev's POV * * * * *  
  
Severus walked out of the castle and into the Forbidden Forest before Disapparating. As everyone should know (especially if they'd read Hogwarts, a History) it was impossible to Apparate except in the furthest reaches of the Hogwarts grounds, and it was damn inconvenient. Potter had given him a severe shock, asking questions like that, but he should have realized that it would come sooner or later, because, as he'd known for years, the boy had no tact whatsoever.  
  
It was nine o'clock by this time, and on a weekday morning, so he had no doubts about ringing the bell of the Evans' house. A small, thin boy that Severus assumed must be Mark opened the door a short distance and looked inquisitively up at him.  
"Hello, can I help you?"  
"This is the Evans household? Good, I would like to speak to Mr Evans on a matter of urgency and great importance."  
"I'll fetch him, if you'll wait."  
"Thank you."  
  
Mark shut the door, very firmly, and Severus was left standing there. He rather admired the boy's sense - Potter would never have thought to do something like that. It was opened again a moment later by a tall, thin red-haired man who looked at him curiously with sparkling, vivid green eyes. He was wearing what should have been smart black Muggle work trousers with a casual air, and a crisp white shirt that was open at the top.  
"You!" Severus exclaimed.  
"This is about Mark, I suppose, although I don't remember you myself. Come in." Severus followed him through to an informally styled living room and perched awkwardly on the edge of a chair.  
"I am Rowan EvansWere you one of Lily's friends, by any chance?"  
"Not exactly. You tripped me up at the wedding," Severus replied, somewhat sullenly. Mr Evans grinned broadly at him, amused at his discomfort.  
"Now I remember. You were insulting Lily and James, so I intervened. Family honor had to be upheld, after all. What's the cause of this visit? I'm sure it isn't just to discuss a rather hostile past relationship."  
"I doubt you're aware, but I am Severus Snape, Potions Master at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, where I understand your son will be attending next term. He saw Harry Potter being removed from his aunt and uncle's house in the early hours of this morning, and as such the Headmaster believes he may be in danger. He has recommended that Mark come to Hogwarts for the rest of the summer for his own safety. I can escort him there immediately, with your permission."  
"What proof do you have of your identity?"  
"Ask your son if that's what he saw last night. I was present, as he will no doubt recall."  
  
Mr Evans looked at him doubtfully, then yelled loudly for Mark to come down. They heard a series of loud thuds as the boy bounded down the stairs, then he appeared in the doorway of the living room, looking puzzled.  
"Yes Dad?"  
"What happened to you last night?"  
"Uh, I couldn't sleep, so I was looking out of the window. There were some people there and they were uh they were. . ."  
"Flying?" Severus suggested helpfully, seeing that he was unwilling to say it out loud. It had probably seemed perfectly sane at the time, but he could see that, to a Muggle boy, telling your father and an unknown man that you'd just seen two wizards flying past your window was probably not a good idea.  
"Well, yeah, on broomsticks if I saw right. It was hard to see them at first, so I kind of looked harder and they became more visible. One of them looked like the Potter kid. You know dad, the one that goes to St Brutus's Institute for Incurably Criminal Boys. I think this guy was the other one, he's certainly got the same nose."  
  
Severus thought quickly. Why on earth did the boy think that Potter attended St Brutus's Institute for Incurably Criminal Boys? The brat was bad, yes, but not that bad. Was it some story his relatives had dreamed up to make his summer holidays even more unpleasant, or had the boy himself created the fiction to make him sound more impressive?  
  
"Don't be rude, Mark," Mr Evans rebuked gently. He flushed, and looked apologetically at Severus.  
"I'm sorry Mister, but it was the only way I could describe how I knew you were the same person. I was right, wasn't I?"  
"Oh, yes, very right. Is that good enough for you, Mr Evans, or do you require further proof?"  
"I'm sure of your identity now, but I will want to discuss this matter with Professor Dumbledore. I'm sure you understand that with my relatives, I have to be very careful. I don't want Mark ending up the same way as Lily did."  
"How inconvenient. I will take you and Mark directly to the Headmaster's study immediately."  
  
Mr Evans grinned at him, and said considerately, as if he didn't know what effect his statement would cause,  
"Sorry, no can do. It'll be at least ten minutes before I clear everything with my boss. I'm sure I can get the day off, there wasn't anything major planned for today anyway, but I don't want to risk losing my job in the process. Do you mind waiting, particularly?" Severus restrained a growl of irritation.  
"No, not at all. I will wait here while you are on the felly tone, or whatever you Muggles call it. I can set up a portkey while you are busy."  
  
Mr Evans nodded and left. After a final, curious glance, Mark vanished after him. Severus forced himself not to grind his teeth in irritation, and set up a small, and very illegal, portkey while he was waiting.  
  
Sure enough, it was a full ten minutes before the pair of them came back again, by which time Severus was getting very irritated and very uncomfortable. It didn't help that he'd hardly had any sleep during the previous night and that he'd just been saddled with Potter for the entire summer as well as the oncoming year. He directed them to take hold, then activated the port key and they vanished. 


	5. Chapter 5

~~~~~~Harry's POV~~~~~~~  
  
Harry trailed up to the office very soon after Snape left. He didn't really have any appetite, so he might as well get the interview over with. He greeted the ghosts and portraits that he passed on his way, until he came at last to the gargoyle barring the entrance.  
"Liquorice Allsorts," he said dully, and stepped confidently onto the staircase to be carried carefully up. He found it hard to summon any sort of emotion actually, apart from pain and loneliness, and his present attitude was now very familiar to him.  
  
He took a seat at the desk, politely waiting for Dumbledore to finish writing a letter.  
"Good morning Harry, did you sleep well?" the old teacher asked amiably.  
"Yes, thank you sir."  
"Professor Snape tells me you've been having nightmares. What are they about? Please tell me, they might be very important for all of us."  
"I doubt it. I see S-Sirius dying every time."  
"Not Voldemort ever? Excellent, he's obviously learned that you won't fall for that one again so easily. Now, we hope to have another visitor here for the holidays, a young boy called Mark Evans. He'll be starting his first year in September, so it will be excellent experience for him. Do you know him at all?"  
"Only by sight sir. Dudley bullies him regularly, and Aunt Petunia disapproves of his father. None of the children near my uncle's house talk to me."  
"Hmmm. Do you have the photograph album that Hagrid made for you, by any chance?"  
"Yes Professor, its in my trunk."  
"With your permission then, acci album!"  
  
The familiar, leather bound album appeared with a flash on the desk. Dumbledore picked it up carefully, and opened it to the page of wedding photographs, one of Harry's favorites, although how his teacher knew that, he didn't know. Maybe there was some other reason for his selection.  
"Sir, isn't that Professor Snape's sister?" he exclaimed. He'd just noticed her for the first time standing next to his mother. He'd probably seen her before, of course, just hadn't taken any notice of her. "Why is she there?"  
"He told you about her then?" Dumbledore asked, a curious, closed expression on his face.  
"Well, there were pictures up, and he saw me looking at them and explained."  
"Really, how very unlike him. She was your mother's best friend at Hogwarts, so it was only natural that they named her your godmother when you were born. She was engaged to Sirius, I believe, although I had no confirmation."  
"That's what Snape said."  
"Professor Snape, Harry," Dumbledore corrected gently. Harry rolled his eyes. The number of times he'd been reprimanded for doing that. . .  
"Yeah, well I never knew I had a godmother until just now. Why didn't anyone tell me?"  
"Probably because the memories hurt too much. She's dead, now, and I know for a fact that her death broke the lives of both Professor Snape and Sirius. I don't think that Sirius could ever bring himself to say her name again."  
  
And now he was dead too, Harry thought guiltily. Still, maybe they were together again, with his parents as well and Cedric and all of the other people who were killed by Voldemort.  
"Eeuuuuuwwww!!! That makes Snape practically like my uncle!" Harry said, pulling a face and trying to forget about all of the deaths the only way that he knew.  
"Harry," Dumbledore said warningly.  
"Sorry sir, Professor Snape then."  
"That wasn't really what I'd wanted to show you. Do you know that man standing two along from Lily?"  
"The one with the red hair? No, I don't think I've seen him before in my life."  
"He's your mother's cousin, Rowan Evans. Petunia despised him practically the same amount as she hated James, but Lily was like a sister to him. I fear that Petunia forbade him contact with you and didn't even tell Dudley of your relationship. Mr Evans is Mark Evans's father, and he's probably been keeping an eye on you since you came to live in Privet Drive."  
"So Mark would be my, uh, second cousin?"  
"That's right."  
  
Harry sat thinking about that for a while. He'd never even considered the idea of having any relatives other that the Dursleys, but if Aunt Petunia had hated that man so much, he must be okay, and Dumbledore liked him - always a good sign.  
  
Suddenly, there was a muted pop, and three figures appeared behind Harry. He swung around to look. Snape was scowling again, looking his usual self.  
"He insisted that I bring him along," Snape said sourly. Dumbledore stood up smiling, and Harry promptly followed his example, wanting to make a good impression.  
"Good to see you again Rowan, you don't look a day older. Is this Mark then? He looks a lot like Lily."  
"I know," the red haired man said with an indulgent smile. "Especially since he refuses to have his hair cut short. It's the latest fad, I think."  
"Boys will be boys, I suppose. Please, take a seat. This is Harry Potter, I'm sure you recognize him."  
  
Rowan Evans stared at him. Harry grinned at him, guessing what was running through his mind. Maybe, despite keeping a weather eye on him, his cousin had never seen him close up before.  
"Pleased to meet you sir. I look like my dad, but I've got my mum's eyes, right?"  
"Harry," Dumbledore said sharply. He relaxed again as Rowan grinned back.  
"Well, yes, that's what I was thinking. How did you guess so quickly?"  
"Its what everyone says. I'm sorry to have caused all of these problems for you."  
"Not your fault, Harry. I wanted to ask if Mark will need new things for school, and how I can get hold of them. I seriously doubt I'll be able to go to a uh Muggle? shopping street. Lily used to talk about going somewhere special, taught me a lot of your jargon as well, like Muggle."  
"Quite right. Yes he will, but we can sort it out easily for you. Harry needs some new things too, clothes especially, so a few wizards can escort them in sometime and make sure they don't get into trouble. Will you let Mark stay for the summer?"  
"Oh yes, I'm perfectly happy for him to. It will be a bit of a blow, doing without him, but I'm out at the office most of the day, and its lonely for him at home on his own. I know he's been nervous about starting here, and it ought to help him settle down."  
  
Mark was squirming in his chair now, his face going red with embarrassment. Harry tactfully pretended not to notice, although Dumbledore looked mildly amused.  
"I'd be happy to introduce him to the wizarding world, sir," Harry volunteered, remembering how odd it had all seemed to him at first. "It can take a bit of getting used to, but it's better than the Muggle world by far."  
"Call me Rowan, Harry, please. Think of me like your uncle, if you want, because that's a good way of describing it. And thank you, it would be good. Lily loved the school, I know, but I think even she was a bit bewildered at first. Will that be all, then?"  
"Unless you have any other concerns?"  
"None - what could be more logical than Mark spending the summer with his cousin. That's the story I'll be spreading around at home, in case you need to know. If Mr Snape will return to my house with me, I'll pack Mark some clothes for his stay. I know you wear robes, mostly, but he'll still need some things."  
"If you would, Severus."  
  
Snape reactivated the portkey, put a hand on Rowan's shoulder and they vanished again. Mark, Harry and Dumbledore were left looking at each other uncomfortably.  
"Harry, why don't you take Mark and show him around, to Gryffindor tower perhaps. Whatever house he ends up in, it will be far more convenient for everyone if he shares a dormitory with you for the present. Go to the Great Hall for lunch, I will ask Mr Evans to eat with us - we've got a lot to discuss."  
"Yes sir," Harry said, picking up the album. "Ii!" he said sharply, and it vanished.  
"You've been busy over the holidays, Harry. You don't learn that charm in school for a long time yet, or at all, on the main syllabus."  
"Nothing to do at the Dursleys' but read. I think I've picked up a lot of new stuff, but I couldn't try it out then. Now I'm at Hogwarts, its okay for me to use magic, isn't it?"  
"Of course."  
"Great. Shall we go, Mark?"  
"Okay." 


	6. Chapter 6

Harry led Mark out of the study and back out past the gargoyle. They then continued through the corridors, Harry pointing out things of interest as they passed, although Mark didn't seem nearly as interested as Harry had expected him to be. After all, he was a Muggle boy in Hogwarts, what more could he ask?  
  
"What's up, Mark?" he asked at last, getting frustrated with the boy's continuing silence. Surely he hadn't turned into Snape, or something equally as odd. The younger boy thought a long while before answering.  
  
"You aren't really a criminal, are you? Not like Big D is. And you don't really go to St. Brutus's, do you?"  
  
"Not at all," Harry said reassuringly, glad that that was the only thing that seemed to be bothering him. "Unless of course, you listen to Professor Snape. My aunt and uncle no doubt thought it was funny to say that. As for Dudley, I used to be his favourite target before I came away to school. He still does sometimes, when he thinks he can get away with it."  
  
"You don't like him?" Mark said tentatively. Harry looked at him; was this boy stupid, or just slow?  
  
"'Course not. You know, Aunt Petunia still calls him Duddykins and Popkins. Feel free to spread that around next time you go home, it might do him some good to find out that not everyone's as scared of him as he thinks."  
  
"Big D? Popkins?" Mark asked incredulously.  
  
"Every time, even in front of his gang occasionally, but that doesn't happen much."  
  
"Why doesn't he pick on you now? You're not particularly tough, are you?" Harry winced, this kid had no tact whatsoever, and no knowledge at all of the wizarding world. He was going to have his work cut out.  
  
"He's too scared I'll do magic on him, even though he knows we can't do any magic out of school until we're seventeen and come legally of age."  
  
"You mean I won't be able to turn him into a frog?" Mark asked, sounding disappointed. Harry grinned at him, suddenly the boy sounded far more promising.  
  
"No, but there's lots you can do - I'll show you sometime, and get a couple of friends onto it. They owe me big time, so I'm sure they'll come up with something. Your dad seems nice, I've never really met him before."  
  
"Yeah, he is. My mum's dead, so he's brought me up on his own. What did he mean about cousins anyway? 'Cos, I know that I don't have any."  
  
"You do. My mum was his first cousin, apparently, although I never knew it before either before today. I guess you know what my aunt and uncle are like, that's probably why. Well, this is the entrance to the Gryffindor tower. Gryffindor's one of the houses at Hogwarts, there are four. I'm in Gryffindor, and you'll be staying here with me over the holidays, but you could end up in any of them. The portrait's called the Fat Lady, so if you get lost, you can ask the other portraits where to find her."  
  
Mark stared at the moving portrait.  
  
"Do all pictures move here, or am I just seeing things?"  
  
"Don't worry, you're perfectly sane. Most do, portraits and photographs at any rate. You can develop your film in a special potion to make it happen, I don't know the exact method. The portraits talk as well."  
  
Harry stepped up to the portrait and grinned, knowing he was about to surprise Mark.  
  
"Excuse me, is there a password yet? I haven't been told one, so I hope not."  
  
"No, not unless the Headmaster requests it," the Fat Lady said dryly. "There never is over the holidays."  
  
"You mean I could get into the Slytherin dungeons?" Harry asked, very interested now.  
  
"Of course not!" she said, sounding horrified. "You're a Gryffindor, they'd never let you in."  
  
"Shame. This is Mark Evans. He's only starting this year, so he hasn't been Sorted yet, but Professor Dumbledore says that he's staying here for the holidays."  
  
"In you go then, Potter. I will allow him access until the beginning of term. After that, if he is not in Gryffindor, he will have the same visiting rules as any other student."  
  
"Of course, thank you."  
  
The portrait swung open inwards. Mark gasped loudly and Harry laughed.  
  
"Come on Mark, she'll close again in a moment and I don't want to have to come out and fetch you."  
  
Harry swung him up inside in a single smooth movement and led him down the narrow corridor into the common room itself. Mark looked around at the large but homey room with the fire crackling under the mantelpiece and the portraits full of gossiping pictures, then went over to look out of the window.  
  
"Wow! How big is this place?"  
  
"Well, it's a castle, no one knows exactly how big because new parts keep appearing, and some old parts vanish if they're unused for too long. You get to know your way around. I'll show you the dormitory where we'll be sleeping, then I'll take you outside and you can see for yourself, okay with you?"  
  
"You bet! I'm not going to get bored this summer."  
  
Now that Mark was completely satisfied that Harry wasn't an escaped inmate of St. Brutus's Secure Center for Incurably Criminal Boys, he became far more talkative. When Harry led him back to the Great Hall for lunch, he was getting as irrepressible as Colin Creevey on a bad day, and that was saying something. They'd already been around most of the school on a whirlwind tour, and planned to have a go at Quidditch that afternoon if nothing else came up. Mark had never played before, of course, but he was fascinated by anything and everything that he came across, and on this point Harry was inclined to agree.  
  
Dumbledore waved them up to the staff table to take seats, where he, Snape, Mr Evans, Flitwick and McGonagall were already sitting, waiting for them before they started. Harry smiled as he saw Mark gaping at the golden tableware and gasp as the food appeared magically onto the plates. The shock didn't however stop him from tucking in enthusiastically, and soon everyone had finished and was comfortably full.  
  
Much to Harry's dismay, Dumbledore had something to say to them both before they could escape.  
  
"Professor McGonagall thinks that we should arrange for you to get a wand as soon as possible, Mark," Dumbledore said benevolently, beaming at them. "I'm not sure quite what you and Harry are planning to get up to, but I'm sure that a wand would come in handy. We can leave the rest of your things for a while, you won't need them until September. Professor McGonagall has offered to take you and your father as soon as you're ready."  
  
"Professor, we were going to play Quidditch this afternoon, or start to anyway. . ." Harry began tentatively.  
  
"Plenty of time for that this evening or tomorrow. We are going to discuss your extra lessons this afternoon."  
  
"We're going now Albus," Professor McGonagall said. He smiled absent mindedly at them, then turned back to Harry, who was sitting bolt upright in his seat, looking as though he'd just been hit in the face by a Bludger.  
  
"Extra lessons?"  
  
"Of course. Now you're here, it would be a shame for you to waste the opportunity to do some extra training. Minerva and Lysander Flitwick will help Mark settle into the wizarding world while we're busy. You will have plenty of time for Quidditch, don't you worry. I would suggest that we now adjourn to my office, where we can continue this discussion in comfort."  
  
"Yes sir," Harry sighed, now fully resigned to his fate since the Headmaster was so decided. 


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: here you go, read, enjoy and review. One question, to athenakitty, why would Harry need a second wand? I'm intending on having him learn wandless magic anyway, if I ever get around to it.  
  
Harry sure now that he was going to be studying harder now than he ever had in term- time, as Dumbledore led him through a side door at the back of the hall and up a hidden flight of stairs to the office. When they were ready, Dumbledore asked,  
  
"Which book did you get the "Ire" charm from, harry? And where did you get the book from?"  
  
"Uh, 'Sorcery, a Student's Guide'. Hermione sent it to me - she got it for some extra reading and thought I might want to read it once she was done."  
  
"The charm to summon the book from any location is 'Acci'. Try using it now."  
  
"Okay, uh, Acci Book!"  
  
The book appeared on the table with a flash. The headmaster calmly picked it up and flicked casually through it, pausing on some pages as if to renew his memory.  
  
"Yes, this is definitely a genuine copy, I wonder how she got hold of it. Harry, what do you know about magic and why people are either wizards or Muggles?"  
  
"Big question," Harry said, stalling for time as he searched his mind for the information needed. "Magic is power stored in a human body that wizards can manipulate and Muggle's can't."  
  
"My, my Harry, you have been busy, haven't you? I'm very impressed. That was a quote from 'The Science of Magic', wasn't it? An excellent book, very accurate, but somewhat on the stuffy side for my taste."  
  
"Yes sir, Hermione sent me that one as well. She's into that sort of thing at the moment, I think she's hoping to find a connection between Muggle science and magic."  
  
"Interesting, I would appreciate it if you told me if she finds anything. So, magic is energy from within that you can use, focussed by a wand. Do you know why, let's see, I am stronger than Professor Lockhart, for instance?"  
  
"Well, no. It's just a guess, but have you studied more, so you know more spells?"  
  
"That is one factor - focus. Your skill in manipulating the energy. I'll try to explain it to you. Picture what I'm describing as a pyramid, with Muggles at the bottom. They are the most numerous and because their bodies can hold so little magic at a time, they are unable to use it. With me so far?"  
  
"Muggles outnumber wizards and don't have enough energy to do magic."  
  
"That's it. The next group up is hedge witches and hedge wizards. They can manipulate very small amounts of magic but don't consciously know they're doing it because the power levels are so minute. They don't require any teaching, of course. It sometimes shows in the form of a gift of something, like being very good with animals. A good number of Muggles have this sort of wizarding abilities, more than you might think from appearances."  
  
"Do my aunt and uncle?" Harry asked, curious as to whether they to were 'freaks'.  
  
"Not a hint of it at any point in their lives, even with a witch in the family. However, I believe your cousin Dudley shows signs of it occasionally."  
  
"Dudley?!"  
  
"He's changed from a useless, if you'll pardon the expression, slob to an excellent boxer in a short period of time. That shows signs of unconscious magic use."  
  
"Okay sir, I'll take your word for it. So, who comes next - wizards and witches?"  
  
"That's right, the ordinary magic users, we call them witches and wizards. Most have the ability to pass practical exams in OWLs and a small minority scrapes a few NEWTs. Examples from your year: Vincent Crabbe, Gregory Goyle, Dean Thomas, Padma Patil, Ernie Macmillan, Hannah Abbott - it's not hard to list a large number off the top of my head."  
  
"So most magic users fall into that group, they aren't so powerful. Anything else?"  
  
"There are certain charms that they are physically unable to perform, the Patronus Charm for instance, which is a complex piece of magic."  
  
"But. . . I. . . ."  
  
"You learned to do that in your third year, correct? It was Remus Lupin that taught you, and he told me of your request. That you were able to produce a corporeal Patronus at that age implied that you had the potential to become a very powerful magician in time, if you kept up your studies."  
  
"What are you then, sir?"  
  
"Patience Harry, I'll get there in the end. Our next group up is the magi. They will get decent NEWTs on the whole and do well in most future careers, although it is rare for them to be taken on in a job such as Auror, where great skill and power is needed just to pass the initial tests."  
  
"Uh, will I need to write all this down later?"  
  
Dumbledore smiled benevolently at him, pulled a piece of parchment out of his desk and tapped it with his wand. An annotated 'population pyramid' appeared in ornate gold ink.  
  
"Sorry about the decoration, I haven't worked out how to get plain black ink yet."  
  
"Its great sir, can you teach me the charm? It would really help in History of Magic."  
  
"Maybe later."  
  
He seemed to bring himself forcibly back to his original subject then, and continued,  
  
"Where was I? Magi?"  
  
"Yes sir. Would most of the people who produced a Patronus in DA last year be magi then? That would be, uh, Cho Chang, Seamus Finnegan, Hermione . . ."  
  
"I believe that due to her skill and mental capabilities, she might actually be counted as one of the next category - an enchantress. An enchanter or enchantress is a powerful magic user. Almost all Aurors are this - your parents among them. It also takes this amount of power to perform Avada Kedavra, or an extremely high charged wand. I believe Wormtail used Riddle's wand to kill Cedric? That was probably because he is unable to perform it with his own. Enchanters are fairly rare - there are three in your year to my best estimate: Hermione Granger, Draco Malfoy and Neville Longbottom. However, the boundaries are sketchy . . ."  
  
"What about Ron? He's good, manages all of the things we do in DA easily."  
  
"He lacks the mental effort that might have moved him from being a powerful mage to a weak enchanter, although he has the power in the correct amount."  
  
"So if he worked hard . . ."  
  
"Yes, he would be up there, just as Miss Granger is. You must remember that young Mr Malfoy is also an enchanter - it would not do to underestimate him."  
  
"I won't. Is there another group? You haven't mentioned yourself yet."  
  
"Of course Harry, the sorcerers. The most powerful magic users around, who can utilize spells others wouldn't even think about. I am a sorcerer myself; so unfortunately is Tom Riddle."  
  
"How am I supposed to kill him then?" Harry asked desperately. "I mean, if he's that much more powerful, than anyone else is, why me anyway?"  
  
"The spells you used earlier showed me fairly conclusively that you, Harry, are also a Sorcerer of an extremely high degree yourself, the first, to my knowledge, since Voldemort to be born. It isn't particularly surprising, considering the remarkable talent you have already shown. Who knows, perhaps, in the very beginning, it was triggered by Voldemort's attack?"  
  
"I'm one of three sorcerers alive at the moment? It's kind of hard to believe. . ."  
  
"It is true, nevertheless and you will be coming to my office everyday from now on, holidays or otherwise for lessons from myself or another member of the faculty. We will add more lessons this summer while you have the time, but they can wait while you get settled in, I think."  
  
"Uh, thank you sir," 'I think' Harry added mentally.  
  
"Think about it Harry, and maybe reread that book. Your first session will be tomorrow, directly after breakfast. I'll see you at dinner, now why don't you go and play some Quidditch, it will take your mind off it all. Help yourself to a Snitch from the broom sheds if you want."  
  
"Yes sir." 


	8. Chapter 8

~~~~Sev's POV~~~~  
  
Severus Snape was sitting alone in his lounge, looking, as he always did, at the many pictures on the wall. In the past, he'd had eyes only for his sister, but now that Potter had unwittingly pointed it out for him, he could see other of Voldemort's many victims with her.  
  
Sirius Black was there, naturally, now there had been a soul match if ever he saw one, and Black had certainly cared for Potter as a father, however reckless. Lily and James Potter, much as he hated to admit it, had made the right decision there. Severus had a grudging respect for the man - it wasn't everyone who could survive Azkaban sane and then sacrifice his newly reclaimed life to save six children. He himself still had nightmares about his own short stay in the wizard prison, and was fairly sure that he'd have gone mad within a year.  
  
A good number of the photographs contained Lily Evans, hardly surprising really since she'd been Cassandra's best friend for so many years. She'd faced the Marauders down more than once on his account, but he'd never thanked her. He regretted that now, but she too was dead, sacrificing herself to save her son so that the rest of the world could be safe.  
  
Severus noted with surprise that there was even a picture of the baby Harry up on the wall, probably taken around his first birthday. It certainly hadn't been him who had taken it, he wondered who had. He hadn't even seen the boy until he started at Hogwarts age eleven. What would he be doing now? Dumbledore's 'talks' were generally short and always seemed to contain something that you really didn't want to hear, the shorter, the more unpleasant. The boy was probably be doing some Quidditch training to give him something else to think about. Did the boy do anything else in his free time?  
  
Suddenly he had a thought: did Potter know that Severus was going to be his babysitter during the holidays? Probably not, Dumbledore would no doubt have left Severus with the enjoyable task of breaking the news to Potter, who would probably be as dissatisfied with the arrangement as Severus himself. It was common knowledge in school how much they despised each other. He sighed, and decided he'd better go and find Potter sooner rather than later. Delaying the job would only make it worse when it came round at last.  
  
As anticipated, the boy was zooming around the school Quidditch pitch. That was one thing that Severus really did envy him - his skill on a broom was unheard of at such a young age. What was more, Potter seemed totally unaware of how exceptional his skills were. Not even James Potter had been that good, and he had been counted the best Seeker in years. Draco Malfoy had told him once, very frustratedly during their fourth year, that the child prodigy, Bulgarian Seeker Viktor Krum had said that Potter might even be better than him. It was quite a compliment, since he was ranked as the sixth best flyer in the world, the youngest ever to compete in the World Cup. If only the brat was in Slytherin. . .  
  
Potter executed a perfect Wronski feint, then saw his teacher watching him and shot over.  
"Were you looking for me, Professor?" he asked with impeccable politeness.  
"Yes Potter. The Headmaster, in his infinite wisdom," Snape sneered. "Has put me in charge of you for the duration of your stay here over the summer."  
  
Was it just his imagination, or did he see Potter's face sink a bit before a cheerful mask slipped back into place.  
"Its kind of you to take the time sir, I'm sure it must disrupt your work considerably. Do you have any instructions for me?"  
"Have you thought at all what you plan to do with yourself this summer, Potter?"  
"Well, Professor Dumbledore says that I have lessons every day after breakfast, and then I hoped to put in some solid Quidditch training. I was going to ask Fred and George if they could come up with some ideas to help Mark get away from Dudley, my cousin. I know he bullies the kid. Then I've got my summer assignments to do, I've done most of them, but there's a few to go."  
  
Potions no doubt being one of them. As far as Severus could tell, that was all the perfect truth, even the bit about helping the Evans boy However, he didn't seem to be saying quite everything, not that you'd expect him to.  
"When do you receive your OWL results?"  
"Day after tomorrow sir, I think. I might be a bit out with my dates."  
"We will await their arrival before deciding which subjects you will require coaching in, unless the Headmaster chooses to enlighten us with details of your training. Potions, for instance, will, I'm sure, be one of them."  
"Quite likely sir," Potter replied candidly. Severus couldn't believe that he admitted his incompetence and had done absolutely nothing to improve. If it had been one of his Slytherins, falling behind in any subject, he would have immediately offered extra coaching. Why hadn't Minerva done that? "Uh sir, do you want to train with me for a bit? I'd welcome the company."  
  
Severus stared at the boy, who was holding out his prized Firebolt towards him. What on earth had happened to Potter? He couldn't be that grateful just for leaving his aunt and uncle's house, could he? He felt his treacherous mouth curve upwards in the beginnings of a smile and reply,  
"That would be pleasant, thank you Potter."  
"Uh, you're welcome sir." Severus smirked inwardly, he obviously hadn't been expecting to be taken up. "You get warmed up, if you want, and I'll get another broom for myself."  
  
Potter was trusting him, probably his least favourite teacher, with the Firebolt that Black had given him, and was going to fly one of the notoriously poor school brooms himself? Unbelievable. James Potter wouldn't even have let Black fly his broom, a Nimbus 1000 as he recalled. He paused, curious, as Potter pulled out his wand and shut his eyes to concentrate.  
"Acci Broom!" he said clearly and a Cleansweep 5 appeared, hovering in front of him.  
  
Severus couldn't believe his senses. Potter had just executed a Sorcerer level charm perfectly, and so casually! Harry Potter, a Sorcerer? He'd have to talk to Dumbledore about this, although no doubt the meddling old busybody already knew. The boy concentrated again and summoned a Snitch. He looked at Severus with a very faint trace of guilt showing on his face,  
"The Headmaster told me to play, so I borrowed it from a school training set. I won't lost it, I promise, and I'll return it when we're done."  
"I'm sure you will. Shall we begin?"  
  
Potter opened his hand and the Snitch darted away. The boy counted slowly to ten and then they were off. Severus found that it was very different flying a new Firebolt to an elderly school broom, which probably hadn't been serviced properly for years. Even so, delighting in the speed of the broom, he was finding it incredibly difficult to stay ahead of Potter - the boy was too damned good!  
  
It took them fifteen minutes before Harry caught the Snitch with a practiced hand. They landed lightly on the grass. Potter was grinning openly, the first time Severus had seen him do so since their return, his black hair so like his father's ruffled by the wind and a look of complete freedom on his face.  
  
"Thank you sir, that was great, a real challenge. You're much better than the other Seekers on the school teams. Will you train with me again sometime?"  
"Yes, thank you Potter," Severus replied, surprised at the obvious compliment the boy had given him. Then he decided something else was in order. "You have a fine broom there, that helps."  
"Malfoy has a nice broom as well, too good for him actually, and it doesn't help him at all. He'd do much better on a Cleansweep model, if his pride would allow him, an 8 if possible, I think, because it doesn't require the same instincts as the Nimbus does."  
  
Severus stared at him, shocked at hearing the kind of comment he would have expected from an international level coach, not a sixteen-year-old school boy.  
"Who would you recommend as Slytherin Seeker then?" Severus asked, and was surprised when Potter was able to answer immediately.  
"Malcolm Baddock. He's a lot younger, I know, but he's got a good feel for his broom."  
"And a Keeper?"  
"Graham Pritchard," Potter answered, again without hesitation. Then he paused.  
"Don't worry Potter, I never help to select a house team, but I will give you a hypothetical assignment," he said, thinking back to the last staff meeting. "Draw up your recommended team lists for each of the four houses and one for the school as a whole, you can use players from any year."  
"Yes sir," Potter replied, looking relieved at getting something that would probably only take him half an hour. "When would you like it for?"  
"I'll give you a week, and remember that players such as Angelina Johnson have left now."  
  
The last staff meeting had been a real eye opener for all of them. It had taken place a week before Potter had returned to school and had been when Dumbledore had first aired a new idea, very obviously one of his own crazy notions.  
"I'm seeking at the moment to organize an inter-school Quidditch tournament," he had announced casually. "It would encourage international cooperation and provide a unique opportunity for some of our young players."  
"I'm not seeing to it on my own," Madam Hooch said firmly, seeing exactly what he was getting at. "I won't be able to fly for another six months with my lung problems and I've been thinking of retiring anyway. Sorry Albus, but its just not going to work unless you think it through again."  
"Would you be willing to stay on until the end of next year to train up a successor? He'd be an excellent player and you could turn a good deal of the active side of the coaching and refereeing over to him very quickly."  
"We'll see. Well, so long as he takes responsibility for this whole affair. If he works out, I'll stay."  
"Thank you. Now, my initial feeling was that there should now be a new school Quidditch captain as well as the traditional four house captains."  
"And who would that be?" McGonagall had asked impatiently. "So many of the older players have just left, we have a slight shortage at the moment."  
"Oh, there are players left, all right, and I have a number of ideas. I will accept your votes just as for Head Boy and Girl in the next few weeks." 


	9. Chapter 9

~~Harry's POV~~~~  
  
Harry thought about this assignment long after the teacher had left. It was very comfortable just sitting in the stands, alone with his thoughts, with nothing else that he had to be doing, free to make his own choice of activity. Finally, with a good idea of all of his teams already thought out, he returned his borrowed broom to the Gryffindor broom shed and went up to the common room to start work on writing it all down.  
  
It was a very nice idea for an assignment, considering who'd set it, and Harry was sure that he was going to give Snape a few surprises, since he wasn't planning to stick to players already on the teams. One product of his 'thinking time' had been the realization that lots of players from all of the houses had been overlooked, either for their youth, lack of ambition or lack of connections. Blaise Zabini, for example, was a brilliant player - Harry had watched him train a couple of times - but he was a Slytherin from a very minor pureblood family and couldn't hope to compete with a boy like Draco Malfoy.  
  
Now equipped with paper and quill, Harry started with the Gryffindor team, deciding to cover one team every day. This one was likely to be the easiest, since there were already a lot of good players on the team, and he knew all of the candidates very well.  
  
Chaser - Katie Bell (Capt.)  
Chaser - Ginny Weasley  
Chaser - Euan Abercrombie  
Beater - Dennis Creevey  
Beater - Kirsten Newton  
Keeper - Ronald Weasley  
Seeker - Harry Potter  
  
This was no time for false modesty, after all, and he was the best Seeker in the school without a doubt. Katie Bell, now a seventh year, had been playing since her second and was certain to be the next captain. Unfortunately, the other two members of the unbeatable Gryffindor trio of Chasers had left, but she was still going strong. Ginny Weasley was an excellent flyer; she'd played on the team before and knew what was needed. Euan Abercrombie was the one Harry wasn't sure about. He was very young, only in his second year, and small for his age. However, he was promising, being fast and accurate.  
  
Dennis Creevey was someone that most people might not have thought of, since he was generally very hyperactive and tagged along after his older brother all the time. Colin was known to be completely inept on a broom, but Dennis was fast and had been playing baseball for years, so he was well able to whack a bludger hard enough. Kirsten Newton was a fourth year, a shy, quiet girl who Harry had caught watching them training with an envious look. The few times she'd been coaxed into the air by her less self- conscious friends, she'd amazed them all by having perfect accuracy with a bludger.  
  
Ron, of course, was the Keeper, now that he'd finally stopped being so embarrassed playing in front of the audience, and Harry was sure that he'd do the team proud. It would be very interesting to know if the new players selected for the Gryffindor team matched his guesses.  
  
It was strange, knowing that he was the only one in the Gryffindor tower. Ron and Hermione weren't going to come bursting in, Fred and George weren't plotting in the corner. . . (dunce, Harry thought to himself, they've left now anyway).  
  
"Harry!" a boy called. Harry looked up, very startled, to see Mark climbing awkwardly in, brandishing a wand. "Diagon Alley's brilliant, isn't it? We went to the sweet shop, the joke shop, the Quidditch shop, the ice cream place and the wand shop!"  
  
"Professor McGonagall took you to the joke shop?" Harry asked incredulously.  
  
"Yeah, why shouldn't she?" Mark replied, completely oblivious to the teacher's reputation in school for being against such irresponsible things as jokes. "I didn't buy anything because she was there, but when we go again I'm going to. I mean, it wouldn't be any use if she knew what I had. Look, I've got a wand too. Eleven inches, willow with a unicorn core. It was the nineteenth wand I had to try - I counted. Shall we go and play Quidditch now? I can't wait! I didn't think it would be so cool until I saw the pictures in the shop, but it looks even better than football!"  
  
Harry grinned, and packed away the potions essay he'd just got out. He led the boisterous Mark down to the Quidditch pitch and found him the best school broom available.  
  
"We'll start by getting you flying, okay?" Harry began. "Once you're okay at that, I'll explain the rules and we can start playing, but that might take a while. Stand next to the broom, it's a good one, a Cleansweep 7, if that means anything to you, and say 'up'."  
  
Mark looked at him doubtfully. Harry remembered that the kid was new to the wizarding world.  
"I'll show you," he said, putting his Firebolt carefully on the ground and demonstrating exactly what he wanted. Mark nodded and tried himself. The broom shot into his hand.  
  
Harry smiled encouragingly, delighted by this fast progress, and helped Mark to mount safely, showing him the proper grip to use. They practiced going up and landing a few ties, then flew a few low, very slow laps of the pitch, with Harry staying close to Mark with his wand out in case of any trouble.  
  
When they came back to their starting point again, Mark was even more hyper than before, and Harry not much less so. He'd never tried coaching Quidditch before, and this was a definite success so far. But then, he had been taking DA for almost a year now, and that had to have helped.  
  
"Well done Mark, that was great! You'll be on the Quidditch team of your house by the time you're in third year, I'm sure. We'd better stop now though, Dumbledore won't be happy if we're late for dinner tonight."  
"Why, what will he do?"  
"Extra lessons, probably. That's what he wanted to talk to me about earlier. Will your dad be there, or has he gone?"  
"Professor Flitwick took him straight home. He said I'd be fine and that I'd have more fun here than back home trying to avoid Big D all summer."  
"We'll work on it, kid, so you don't have to do that at Christmas. Dudley won't know what's hit him."  
  
Harry looked down at Mark's beaming face and grinned himself. He'd always envied Ron his family, and now it seemed like he was finally getting a proper one of his own (the Dursleys didn't count, of course). If there had been one thing that he'd wished for every year when he'd been at the Dursleys, it was to find someone else he could live with - totally unrealistic, as he realized now, but when he turned seventeen, the spell would go anyway. Mark was turning out to feel like a younger brother already, even though they'd only just met. No other kid had ever aroused this much protectiveness in him before. 


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: Sorry to have to tell you this, but I won't be able to update again for a couple of weeks cos I'm away on a Berlin exchange. I HAVE NOT ABANDONED THIS STORY!!!! and I'll start updating again as soon as I return, so stick with me.  
  
~~~~Sev's POV~~~~~  
  
Severus Snape stood stiffly in the window of the Headmaster's study, watching the two boys carefully. Albus Dumbledore stood beside him, looking on with interest.  
  
"You were out with Harry earlier, Severus, weren't you?" asked Dumbeldore.  
  
"Yes. He beat me on a Cleansweep 5," Severus replied sourly. To think that he, Slytherin Seeker for six years and one of the best players Hogwarts had seen in the present century, had been beaten by a sixteen year old boy on a battered school broom.  
  
"What were you flying?"  
  
"Potter's Firebolt," he admitted unwillingly. To have been beaten was bad enough without having such a superior broom.  
  
"He lent you his Firebolt?" Dumbledore asked, sounding surprised for once. "How curious - it was a present from Sirius. Did anything interesting happen?"  
  
"Well, he somehow persuaded me to train with him sometimes, I'm badly out of shape," Severus said negligently, then added to vex his mentor, "Oh, and he's a Sorcerer."  
  
"How do you know that?" the old man demanded sharply.  
  
"How many wizards do you know who can perform the Accio charm properly?"  
  
"Point taken Severus, thank you. I'll have to mention it to him. Harry's bringing young Mark on quite nicely, isn't he?"  
  
"I suppose so."  
  
"I might see if I can't arrange for him to help our new Quidditch assistant with the first year coaching. You know he's good Severus, but you just don't want to praise him because he's James's son. Merlin! Harry had nothing to do with what his father did to you, so at least try to give him a fair chance for your own sake. He's a fine young man, and you're going to be seeing a lot of him in the future."  
  
"Two more years, Albus," Severus said with relish. "And then I will never have to see him again."  
  
"Especially if he's been killed before then, which is more likely now than ever, and increasingly so."  
  
"I would have though that you or Minerva would be more of a target than Potter."  
  
Dumbledore looked at him, appearing very disappointed. At last, he stopped staring intently and made up his mind.  
  
"Severus, I am now going to tell you what so far only Harry and I know, and I am sure that you understand the need for secrecy. Harry is the most important boy in the world and this moment of time. He is the only thing that stands between Voldemort and invincibility, and he knows that someday he must either destroy Voldemort or be killed by him. I told him of the prophecy last summer, after Sirius's death, to try to explain why he's such a target. But I don't know! Maybe I was wrong to do so, but he's retreated further into himself than he ever has before. Even I can't read him most of the time now, and I always could before."  
  
"He's growing up Albus, it happens to us all. He is a Sorcerer. He has the power, if he can be bothered to learn how to use it. Its his destiny, so he'll do it. There's no need to worry about him, he's just being a self-centered fool who doesn't realize just how man lives besides his are at stake, my own included."  
  
"That's where you're wrong!" Dumbledore snapped, sounding more vexed with his former student than Severus had seen him in a long time. "Harry knows exactly how much is at stake. He's lost even more than you to Voldemort, Severus. He first lost his parents and the godmother he never had a chance to know to death, his innocent godfather to Azkaban, and all likelihood of a happy childhood. In Sirius, years later, he discovered a second father, then loses him too, and I know that he still blames himself for that death. Remus, who came a close second, is now running so close to insanity that Harry might lose him too. In his fourth year, Cedric was killed in front of his very eyes, before Harry himself was tortured and forced to witness Voldemort's rebirth. On top of all that he's almost died himself seven times!! He's only sixteen, and sometimes he looks as though he's seen more horror than someone twice that!"  
  
"I'll concede that he hasn't had a pleasant time, and I will give him a chance since you ask it, but I don't believe that he's had a worse childhood than me."  
  
"Oh Severus, don't you see now? You had Cassandra beside you until her death, and friends who understood what it was like. Harry's had no one. You've met his family, and all of the other children in the area were too scared of Dudley to make friends."  
  
"What are Weasley and Granger then? Enemies?"  
  
"They are friends, certainly, and they mean even more to Harry than he shows, but he worries for them constantly. They don't understand what they're up against to the same degree and don't understand his life and feelings. He will never open himself completely to them, indeed, I'd be surprised if he did to anyone now."  
  
"Pure Gryffindor stupidity," Severus snorted. "Call it bravery if you will."  
  
"And a very Slytherin wish to stand on his own two feet, just like young Draco Malfoy is attempting to do."  
  
"What?"  
  
"No, I suppose you wouldn't know. The Sorting Hat very nearly placed him in Slytherin, it would have if Harry hadn't decided to go to Gryffindor with Mr. Weasley. I sometimes wonder how things would be different if he had."  
  
"Draco and Potter in the same house? We wouldn't have a moment's peace! If you'll excuse me now, I have some essays to mark."  
  
"Certainly Severus," Dumbledore said, with an irritating, knowing little smile as he looked at one of the few men who, whatever he might say to the contrary, would always look at him as a surrogate father.  
  
Severus nodded curtly to him and returned slowly towards his dungeon lair, intending to eat in his rooms if possible. He'd told the truth about having marking to do, but he really wanted time to get his feelings strictly back in order. Damnitall, why had he rescued Potter anyway? The boy wasn't physically harmed, in fact he seemed quite used to the treatment. Severus could easily have returned to Hogwarts with no one the wiser. It would probably have done the boy good to have a month's discipline - it was good for the brain.  
  
But then, he'd never known how much the Potter boy kept bottled up inside him, and he'd actually been openly friendly in his Quidditch training. Later, he had been so careful with Evans, hardly in character at all. It couldn't last. Soon, once he'd recovered from the shock of being rescued by his harsh, uncaring Potions master (and that was his cover gone for good) he'd be back to being the arrogant Gryffindor Golden Boy without a sense of politeness in his head.  
  
But why had the Sorting Hat nearly placed him in Slytherin? That was certainly an unexpected tidbit of information. James Potter's son, in Slytherin? The thought didn't bear thinking about. Potter had never shown any signs of the cunning, intelligence and understanding that marked the Slytherins apart. Severus wondered if Dumbledore knew what most of his Slytherin students' home lives were like? If he even cared? There were reasons why it was the closest knit house in the school. Even Dumbledore tended to discriminate against them sometimes. Still, it hadn't happened. Potter was in Gryffindor, where he belonged, and that was the end of the matter. 


	11. Chapter 11

Suddenly, Severus's dwindling fire blazed back into life. He cursed under his breath, wishing he'd had the forethought to extinguish it himself as soon as he came down: the cold wouldn't harm him, but the prospect of company might.  
  
"If you were thinking of eating down there, Sev, you can forget it," Dumbledore said firmly, his head appearing in the green flames. "I expect everyone - and that includes you - to take their meals in the Great Hall now that it is no longer just us two remaining."  
  
"Must I, Albus? I need to finish a batch of post-Cruciatus potion. . ."  
  
"Stop this adolescent sulking and come up immediately Severus Snape. You are just lucky that I chose to make this firecall in the antechamber, not in the Great Hall. Now, unless you wish me to have to come and fetch you, I suggest that you Floo up."  
  
"All right," Severus snapped testily, feeling his face flush slightly at such juvenile treatment. "Move out of the fire and I'll come up, its obviously impossible with you venerable head in the way."  
  
Dumbledore frowned at him, but vanished immediately, and Severus stepped in and Flooed upstairs, not feeling at all enthusiastic at the prospect of eating all of his meals with a pair of adolescent or pre-adolescent boys, one a Gryffindor and the other quite likely to follow his example. Dumbledore looked up from the seat he had just taken at the table when Severus came in.  
  
"Ah, Professor Snape, glad you could join us," the headmaster said, just as if he hadn't been ordered to come. "I know how important your potions work is. Please, take a seat."  
  
Severus found himself sitting sandwiched between Harry Potter and the Headmaster, who was talking earnestly to young Evans about some incomprehensible Muggle custom. He picked at his appetizing food in a stony, disapproving silence, hoping that no one, even Dumbledore, would dare to disturb him. It was unacceptable, ordering him around as if he was still a student himself, he, easily acknowledged the best potions master in Europe, degraded to a teenage student.  
  
"Uh Professor," Potter began, stupid boy. Severus turned to glare at him, hoping he'd get the hint. Unfortunately, being a Gryffindor, he didn't. "If you still want to do some Quidditch training, do you have a time that you'd prefer? I mean, I can do any time, except when I have lessons with Professor Dumbledore."  
  
"Or me. "Yes Potter, your Occlumency lessons will be continuing every evening straight after dinner," he said, smirking in satisfaction as the boy winced and shuddered apprehensively. It would be perfectly all right for him, so long as he remembered to take the proper precautions with any items he'd prefer to remain private, like his Pensieve for instance. Then he thought carefully about the time that the boy would dislike the most. He had an idea - the boy was a teenager, after all. "As for Quidditch, seven o'clock every morning is acceptable to me."  
  
"Yes sir, that's fine by me too. Its kind of you to take the time," Potter replied, not seeming at all put out.  
  
Shut up Potter, Severus thought to himself, getting irritated by the boy's irrepressible nature. Even though he hadn't said it aloud, hadn't dared to with Dumbledore at the table and no doubt supervising him carefully, Potter must have finally got the idea, because he applied himself to his food and made no further effort at conversation.  
  
Later that evening, after everyone else in the castle was asleep, Severus took his usual evening stroll, when he calmed down enough after the day to sleep. The students called it his patrol, no doubt because he was in no way inclined to be lenient on any student he caught breaking curfew and interrupting his own silent thoughts. It was then that he saw the two boys walking through the corridors.  
  
Potter was wearing pyjamas that might have fitted him perfectly three years ago, but now were faded, patched and came ended just below his knees, displaying thin, scrawny legs.  
  
"What do you think you're doing?" Severus asked icily. Mark shrank back behind his older cousin.  
  
"Mark wanted to send a letter to his father, sir," Potter replied, not moving an inch and staring him straight in the eye, as if to prove he wasn't at all intimidated.  
  
"Mr Potter, while you are at school, it would make perfect sense that the school rules apply, which I'm sure you would have realized if you applied even your somewhat lacking brain to the problem. That decision from the Headmaster includes the rule forbidding nighttime wanderings to students out after curfew. I will take the letter to the Owlery myself, but you will both go to bed immediately!"  
  
"Yes sir."  
  
Mark thrust the letter hastily into his hand and fled back towards the Gryffindor tower, Potter walking briskly after him, not hassled, not scared by the encounter. Severus looked at the letter and decided to do a typically Slytherin thing and get information from any available source. He opened the letter carefully with a delicate charm that would allow him to reseal it after he'd perused the facts.  
  
Hey Dad,  
Missing you but this place is so cool. I can tell I'm not going to get bored. Harry's great, and he's showing me everything. He started teaching me to fly today after we came back from Diagon Alley. Its great fun, a bit like riding a motorbike, so maybe I won't buy one when I'm sixteen - this could easily be better and faster. He's a really good teacher, so don't worry, and I think I'm learning loads. He suggested that I come to watch him train with Snape tomorrow, and I think I'm going to if I can get up in time. It ought to be amazing, since Professor Dumbledore told me that Harry's amazing, the youngest player on a house team in over a century!  
  
The strangest thing happened at dinner today. Snape said something about Occlumency lessons, and Harry looked terrified. I asked him about it later, and he said that Occlumency is stopping someone reading your mind (he said looking through your memories, but it's the same thing, isn't it?) and the only way to learn is to try it. I couldn't see what was so bad about that, but Harry just said 'there are things in my head that I wouldn't wish on anyone'. Weird, huh? Do you know what he meant? I mean, he's only sixteen, I think, so he can't have done that much.  
  
Harry's promised to work out some stuff that'll stop Dudley bullying me, but don't worry, it won't actually hurt him (much) just scare him off. Well, I've got to stop now, because else Harry says we'll get caught by Snape on the way to posting it.  
  
See you Markarry lookedHarr  
  
Severus re-read the letter, committing it to memory, then resealed it and posted it using a school owl. Then he thought about the words that Mark had said Potter had used. Gryffindor bravery? More like Hufflepuff stupidity if he was that scared of a simple lesson. There was nothing in an Occlumency lesson that could physically harm him, after all, and it would keep him safer in a combat situation. Potter was too Gryffindor for his own good, whatever the Sorting Hat thought - he'd no doubt feel much better if he did relax enough to talk to someone.  
  
Severus decided that he wouldn't go to the Headmaster about this - he could just imagine the tongue-lashing he'd receive for reading the letter in the first place, not worth it for the meager information he'd collected. Still, at least he'd found something vaguely useful beside the signs that Mark was swiftly become another of Potter's lackeys. 


	12. Chapter 12

A/N: Sorry about the wait, I was having major problems with my email and sending/receiving attachments. As I said in my other story, I'm giving story recommendations, and I'd like some in return. This chapter's: the 'Amulet of Time' quartet.  
  
~~~~Harry's POV~~~~~  
  
Harry woke up early the next morning, since he knew he had an appointment on the Quidditch pitch with Professor Snape. No doubt the man had deliberately chosen the time to irritate him, and he was determined not to be late. Unfortunately, he was not quite early enough - they had five minutes to wake up properly, dress and get down there. He only hoped that Mark was fast.  
  
"Wake up Mark!" Harry said, conjuring a wet sponge above his young cousin's face early - too early - the next morning. Fortunately, Mark woke up without needing the extra help and tumbled out of bed with his eyes still shut, much to Harry's amusement. Coming awake instantly was a talent he sometimes wished he had, but he knew better than to jump out without checking first for pranks/traps/ambushes/stray chocolate frogs from the previous night. After all, he was a Gryffindor, a boy, and had been there at the same time as the Weasley twins - not a good combination.  
  
"Quidditch!" Mark exclaimed, remembering the reason he was being woken up at that unearthly hour of the morning. "Harry! Where's my shirt?"  
  
"Here," Harry replied calmly, chucking it at him and pulling on his own Quidditch robes. In no time at all, they were running down and out, both looking forward to the session.  
  
Snape was waiting for them in the shadow of the Slytherin stands. Harry was surprised to see that instead of his customary black robes, the ones that made him look suspiciously like an overgrown bat or vampire, he was wearing a set of Slytherin Quidditch robes. Really, he shouldn't have been too surprised - a player of Snape's standard would certainly have been on his house's team.  
  
"Good morning sir," Harry said politely. The last thing he wanted was for Snape to get it into his head that he was insulting him and cancel the training.  
  
"Good morning Mr Potter, Mr Evans. Shall we begin?"  
  
"Sure. Which broom would you like sir? If you want, use the Firebolt again."  
  
"Thank you Potter. You have a Snitch in your possession, I assume?"  
  
Harry grinned and pulled the tiny golden snitch out of his pocket. Glancing apologetically at Snape, he turned to Mark to explain what was happening.  
  
"This is the Snitch. The Seekers, one on each team, have to catch it, and that's what ends the game. You also get points. I play Seeker normally, so this is my job."  
  
"Come on Potter, he'll understand if we show him. Its hardly a difficult concept."  
  
Harry shrugged at Mark, stepped forwards and released the Snitch. They waited while it sped away, then they took off and raced after it. In and out of the goalposts, up and down, around, behind the stands it led them while Mark watched, awestruck, from below. At last, by soaring through one of the circular goals rather than swerving to miss it, Harry got a hand to the Snitch and they pulled to a halt in mid-air, pausing for breath before returning to the ground.  
  
"Wow Harry! That was amazing!" Mark exclaimed. "You were so fast. . Will I ever be able to fly like that?"  
  
"I am sure that you will if Potter keeps working with you," Snape said, then strode away, back towards the dungeons. Harry stared unbelievingly after him. Had he just paid him a compliment? Were his ears deceiving him, or had he just been acknowledged as a good player and an excellent coach?  
  
"Well," he said, bringing himself back down to Earth. "Let's go and have breakfast, Mark. Your dad might have had time to owl you, although we did send your letter off a bit late."  
  
"Okay. So, what do the other players do?"  
  
"You know that there is one Seeker on each team, and their job is to catch the Snitch. Seekers are usually small, light and good flyers - you need to be since it's essentially a race. Then there are two Beaters per team. They carry bats, they're kind of like baseball bats, and keep the Bludgers away from the other players on their team. There are two Bludgers - they're small black balls - and they try and hit you. Beaters tend to be bigger and stronger than Seekers. There's one other ball in play: the Quaffle. That's the ball that you score goals with. There are three players on a team that try to score and they're called Chasers. The goal hoops are guarded by a Keeper. Understand that?"  
  
"Uh . . ."  
  
"Don't worry, you'll pick it up as we go along. I'll show you the other balls sometime."  
  
"I guess," Mark said, a bit disappointed that he didn't know it straight away. He'd thought it was more like football but it actually sounded much more complicated. "What do you think will be for breakfast? I'm starved."  
  
Harry laughed.  
  
"Whatever you want, pretty much. Cereal, toast, bread, bacon, eggs. . ."  
  
"Wow. But there aren't that many of us here, are there? Why go to so much trouble?"  
  
"The house elves do all the cooking, and they actually enjoy it. They provide a large range of food for the school - when everyone's here someone's sure to eat it - and I guess that they look at what we eat in the holidays and provide what they think we'll need."  
  
"Professor Snape told me about house elves. He said they were annoying, pestering little creatures that could never do anything right."  
  
"He's wrong there. I know one of the house elves, Dobby. He works here at Hogwarts now, and he's helped me out a few times. He saved my entire defense group last year, going against one of the teachers to do it. Actually, I guess that might be why Snape doesn't like them. Dobby likes me much better than any of them, except possibly Dumbledore, and so he's a security risk." 


	13. Chapter 13

When they entered the Great Hall, they took their seats at the table, Mark still looking very uncomfortable in the wizarding setting. The owls swooped in. Harry watched, staying very detached in the hope of keeping his envy down, as all three swooped immediately to Dumbledore, dropping two parcels and some letters in front of him. He picked up the first package curiously, after a quick safety spell to identify any hexes or jinxes attached, then smiled.  
  
"These two are for you, Harry, not for me at all. Birthday gifts, perhaps, though they are a bit late."  
  
Harry accepted the two packages eagerly and opened the one letter that came with them.  
  
_Hi Harry,  
Happy Birthday mate, sorry this won't arrive quite on time, but we. . . okay I kind of left it a bit late (don't you start, Mum and Hermione have already told me what an idiot I am), and then the owls couldn't find you. I hope you're okay, but we reckoned it was some Order plan that no one would tell us about. We sent everything to Dumbledore - he'll know how to find you even if no one else does. Why aren't you writing to us? Is it your uncle again? Mum's starting to freak, and I know that old Mad Eye's just looking for an excuse to go and hex someone, and he deserves it more than most.  
  
We're having a pretty awful summer so far, I'm almost starting to miss that old toad Umbridge. We're at the Burrow, that's me, Hermione, Ginny, Dad and Charlie. Mum's still at HQ looking after Lupin. He's not good, can't remember what year it is sometimes, muttering stuff like "if James knew, he'd never trust me again" or "Lily would kill me for this". I reckon he's finally lost it, poor chap. Its scary, I never knew he and Snuffles were so close. Maybe he'd be better if you went to see him, that's what 'Mione reckons anyway, I dunno though.  
  
Still, hope you're okay and having a good summer, and like the presents. Hermione says she's sent you heaps of books, so you won't get bored. Well at least you can have a bonfire and cook some stuff, hey 'mione, I didn't mean it. . . .  
  
Sorry Harry, she was reading over my shoulder and got a little bit irritated at the last comment. Of course you shouldn't burn them, they're far too important for your education mate, so learn them off by heart and I'll test you on the train.  
  
See you  
Ron  
_  
Harry looked up, frowning slightly.  
  
"Sir, maybe you should read this," Harry said, passing the letter to Dumbledore and turning his attention to his presents. He started with Ron's, which actually came from the entire Weasley family. Inside were some chocolates, a few of Fred and George's new products and a poster of the World Cup winning Bulgarian Quidditch team. Moving the tricks quickly to his pocket, hopefully before anyone noticed them, he moved to Hermione's. Tearing off the neatly wrapped paper, he found three books and a short note.  
  
_Harry  
Won't write much - I was helping Ron, and it's a good thing I did considering some of the things he tried to say. I hope you like these and have a good birthday.  
Write soon  
Hermione Granger_  
  
Harry looked at the books.  
  
Basic Occlumency  
Seekers through the Ages  
The Complete Defense Against the Dark Arts Handbook  
  
They looked interesting, he imagined, and she did generally have good taste in finding useful ones. . .  
  
"Professor Snape, do you think this will be any use?" he asked, holding out the Occlumency book.  
  
"Read it and see. Its from Granger, I presume, I doubt Weasley would take the time to enter a bookshop, even for you. She seems to supply you with a complete reference library."  
  
"For the good of my education," Harry replied lightly, refusing to be irritated.  
  
"Harry," Dumbledore said gravely. Harry became serious at once. "You've read this carefully, haven't you?"  
  
"Yes sir. Do you think it would help if I went? It won't just remind him about Sirius?"  
  
"Unlikely. If Remus is worrying about James and Lily's feelings, it will be you that he's concerned about. Do you feel up to coming with me immediately? I wish I'd thought of this earlier, it might just save his sanity."  
  
"Yes sir, of course."  
  
"Mark, stay with Professor Snape. He'll tell you the basic background about Voldemort that you will need to know, but just what any Hogwarts student could tell you, of course. Severus?"  
  
"I understand Albus. For what its worth, I hope the mutt does snap out of it and do his share of the work."  
  
"I'll tell him you said so. Come along Harry, we'll go by Floo."  
  
They threw the dust into the fire in the Great Hall and were sucked through to Grimwauld Place. It was an even worse passage than usual, because Dumbledore had insisted on going at the same time as Harry in case of any danger.  
  
They emerged in the kitchen, where Mrs Weasley was sitting, crying quietly at the table.  
  
"Molly?" Dumbledore asked gently. "Is he worse?"  
  
"The same as before. Oh thank Merlin you've come. He hasn't been properly conscious since last full moon and I've been at my wits' end to know what to do with him."  
  
"Its all right Molly, we're here now. You go and get some rest, while we go and see him. Is he in his room?"  
  
Mrs Weasley nodded and Dumbledore led Harry upstairs. He pushed open the door gently.  
  
"Professor?" Harry said quietly.  
  
Lupin was lying on the bed, his hair even shaggier than usual and a stubble dark on his cheeks. He was tossing around the bed as if he was having a nightmare, muttering to himself.  
  
"Forgive me James, I should have known. I should have been there."  
  
Harry looked back at the Headmaster, now starting to feel scared. Dumbledore motioned him into the chair by the bedside.  
  
"Professor?"  
  
"Call him 'Remus', Harry, he might hear you better."  
  
"Remus? Its me, Harry," he said tentatively, feeling a bit foolish. "Please wake up, we need you. I need you."  
  
Remus' eyes snapped open. Harry gasped at the change.  
  
"Harry?" he whispered. "You're safe?"  
  
"Of course, safe as ever. Oh Remus, Dad wouldn't blame you for what happened, you know that really. It was all my fault that Sirius died."  
  
"Never yours," Remus said hoarsely. Dumbledore smiled and handed him a glass of water.  
  
"Its good to have you back with us. You gave us quite a scare."  
  
"Sorry."  
  
"Don't be, you couldn't help it. Even Severus said he hoped you recovered."  
  
"He didn't!" Lupin said, sounding horrified.  
  
"He actually said that he hoped the mutt would snap out of it and do his share of the work," Harry told him. Lupin looked relieved.  
  
"Oh good, I was worried he was worse off than I was."  
  
"You know full well that that means he was very worried about you," Dumbledore said impatiently. "He just thinks he'll look weak if he shows you any compassion."  
  
"I know. Can I get up now, there must be a lot I need to catch up on?"  
  
"No Remus, go back to sleep. We'll visit again soon. Harry and I have to tell everyone that you're on the mend. Harry, go and tell Molly, will you? Despite my instructions, she's still in the kitchen."  
  
"Do I have to?"  
  
"Go on Harry," Remus said gently. "I'm not going anywhere. And. . . thank you for bringing me back to myself."  
  
Harry smiled weakly and left, running down the stairs, feeling more energetic than he had in weeks.  
  
"Mrs Weasley! He's going to be okay!"  
  
"Harry, that's marvelous! Was it you coming?"  
  
"Mm. He just woke up when I said we needed him. He wanted to get up, but Professor Dumbledore wouldn't let him. They're talking now."  
  
"Remus should have known better than to try that. And what's all this I hear about you not writing to Ron and Hermione? They've been worried sick about you."  
  
"I'm okay. I'm sorry, its just I needed to be alone for a while, to think about it. Will you tell them? And say thanks for the presents? They were brilliant, especially the poster.  
  
"I'm glad you liked it, dear. Will you be staying for lunch?"  
  
"I dunno, we just came straight after I got Ron's letter. Probably not, because I'm meant to be having a lesson now."  
  
"What on? It's the holidays!"  
"I need to learn so that all this doesn't happen again. Its going to be Advanced Charms mostly, I think. I've just been told that I'm doing them. I'm not studying all the time, though, I've got some solid Quidditch training to do too."  
  
Meanwhile Severus was not having an easy time of it. Why had Dumbledore saddled him with trying to explain this of all things, he didn't know but his hatred of Voldemort and his dislike of Potter weren't helping matters.  
  
"The most important thing to remember about the wizarding world is that it isn't safe," Severus said, pleased at the look of apprehension on Mark's face.  
  
"W-why?"  
  
"There is a very powerful Dark wizard alive now. He killed Potter's parents among many other people, Muggles and children as well as direct opponents. He was the one that gave Potter his scar. Most wizards call him You-Know-Who because he's so terrible that they're afraid to call him by the name he's chosen for himself."  
  
"What's his name then?"  
  
Severus took a deep breath.  
  
"Voldemort."  
  
"Is that French?"  
  
"How am I supposed to know? Ask Potter when he gets back."  
  
"Is he why I had to come here after seeing Harry leave?"  
  
"Unfortunately, yes."  
  
"Is it safe here?"  
  
"Hogwarts is probably the safest place in the world at the moment because Professor Dumbledore is here and he is reputedly the only one the Dark Lord is afraid of."  
  
"Isn't he scared of Harry, if Harry survived him?"  
  
"He considers Potter to be a minor inconvenience at most, although I personally would say that Potter is far worse than that."  
  
"Is there only him who's bad?"  
  
Severus groaned inwardly, did the boy have no end of questions?  
  
"No. The Dark Lord has a number of followers called Death Eaters. They aren't as powerful as him but are still a force to be reckoned with. Unfortunately, we don't know who they are."  
  
"Am I going to be attacked?"  
  
"You can only hope not. I personally think it is unlikely that the Dark Lord would take the time to eliminate a single, untrained boy when he has much greater enemies to contend with. We'll stop here for today."  
  
"But Harry's not back yet. What shall I do?"  
  
"I don't care what you get up to, practice your flying or something."  
  
"Harry said I shouldn't when he wasn't there."  
  
At least Potter had some sense.  
  
"Explore the castle, then. There has to have been something that Potter didn't show you. The kitchens?" he suggested desperately, knowing that unless he could come up with something, he'd be stuck with Evans until Dumbledore returned with Potter.  
  
"I don't think we went there. . ."  
  
"You'd remember if you had, I'm sure. If you can find them, I'm sure the house elves will provide you with something to eat."  
  
"What are house elves?"  
  
Severus gave up and resigned himself to hours of questioning. 


	14. Chapter 14

He looked up with a start as Dumbledore and Potter returned.  
"How is he Albus?"  
  
"Awake, thank Merlin. Still weak, but he'll recover quickly now. Do you feel up to a lesson now Harry?"  
  
Potter shook his head and silently left the hall, rude brat, not even having the courtesy to answer.  
  
"Leave him alone for a while, Mark," Dumbledore said, a sad smile on his face. "He'll be outside, I imagine, so I suggest that you return to Gryffindor tower, maybe you could try out a few spells with your wand."  
  
"Yes sir," Evans replied quickly, copying Potter's usual tone and looking a bit disappointed. When he'd gone, Dumbledore felt free to talk freely.  
  
"Remus was in a loop of self-incrimination. That's an affect that can occur when a person believes they've failed a Wizard's Debt, Oath or similar bond. He blamed himself for James and Lily's deaths, for distrusting Sirius, for not killing Pettigrew when he had the chance and for not being there to save Sirius soon enough."  
  
"That wasn't his fault, it was Potter's and mine."  
  
"NEVER say that again, Severus! Sirius' death was no one's fault. We all made mistakes. I did, Harry did, you did, and even Sirius did. The difference is that we've come to terms with it by now; Harry has not. He really has the most impressive guilt complex I've seen."  
  
"So you're another of Potter's lackeys," Severus sneered, feeling slightly uncomfortable at this open discussion of his feelings and, as usual, hiding it behind his customary mask. He stood up, spun on his heel and stalked out, his black robes billowing behind him. Dumbledore watched him go, shaking his head slightly.  
  
Potter did not appear at lunch or dinner, so Severus was very doubtful as to whether he'd feel like turning up for his Occlumency lesson. After all, it was unlikely the boy would have the forethought to send him a message asking to cancel the lesson. He came, however, and when he came, he looked just as stubborn, just as insensitive, just as difficult as ever. There were no signs of guilt on that face.  
  
"You decided to show up then, Potter. Have you read the book Granger gave you?"  
  
"No sir, not yet."  
  
"Disappointing, one might almost think you weren't taking this seriously. Make sure you do so before our next lesson. Legilimens!"  
  
Sev's mind was filled with Harry's memories, he hadn't bothered to try searching for a particular time or theme. He watched, helpless, as Black fell through the veil and Lupin grabbed Potter to stop him following, as the Diggory boy was struck by Avada Kedavra and as the Dark Lord rose again. That was enough, more than enough, for him. He terminated the spell, breathing heavily himself. Potter was kneeling on the floor, curled up tightly, hugging his knees to his chest and hiding his face in them.  
  
"Potter?" Severus asked, surprised and wondering at this reaction, far more extreme than any he'd achieved before.  
  
Potter raised a deathly white face to look at him. His glasses were lying discarded on the floor next to him, and his emerald eyes looked greener than ever and were filled with tears that spilled uncontrollably down his cheeks. He looked about thirteen, twelve even, not sixteen by any stretch of the imagination, and more like Lily than ever.  
  
Despite his obvious pain, Potter hadn't made a single sound. Then again, he didn't seem at all aware of anything around him either. Severus knelt down beside him, intending to help the boy to his feet. He was surprised to say the least when something seemed to snap within the boy and Potter grabbed his robes and clung to him like a lifeline as he began to cry properly, great, raking sobs, for what was probably the first time in years.  
  
Maybe Dumbledore had been right about some of it. Severus lifted Potter of the floor easily, surprised at how little he weighed, and reached out to summon a small vial of liquid - a very strong sleeping draught, which he poured down Potter's throat, murmuring soothingly to persuade him to swallow. The boy went limp in moments.  
  
Harry's POV  
  
Harry woke from a mercifully dreamless sleep to a blinding headache. He opened his eyes to very familiar surroundings.  
  
"Not again," he groaned, looking around at the Hogwarts Infiramry. It wasn't even the beginning of term! Then his memory of last night came flooding back to him: the Occlumency, how he'd broken down and started crying in front of Snape of all people. . .  
  
"I'm here to see Harry," Snape said firmly from just beyond his bed, his voice easily heard through the curtains. Harry? Since when did Snape call him Harry?  
  
"He's still sleeping Severus," Madam Pomfrey said, sounding a bit timid. That was a first. Normally she ruled over her domain with a will of iron.  
  
"I know quite well exactly how long a dose of my own sleeping potion lasts, thank you. And I know that it was an exact dose because I was the one to give it to him. Potter has just woken up, and is no doubt listening to this conversation with a certain amount of amusement. (Harry hastily wiped the grin from his face) I have come to give him a second dose."  
  
Whether Madam Pomfrey agreed or not Harry never knew but Snape swept through the curtains around Harry's bed a second later. He was holding a small vile of violet coloured potion in his hand.  
  
"Don't say anything, Potter," he ordered. "An fortunate side affect of this potion is a slight hoarseness of the voice which could cause a significant amount of discomfort should you attempt to talk. Drink all of this."  
  
Harry downed it in one, not daring to argue, and grimaced at the taste. He just managed to stay awake long enough to see Snape leave again before dropping back into oblivion.  
  
When Harry woke again, he felt completely normal and his headache was gone. He opened his eyes and sighed: he was still in the infirmary.  
  
"Right on time, Harry," Professor Dumbledore said. Harry turned to see him seated comfortably in a chair by his bed. "Professor Snape said you'd be waking. Are you feeling better?"  
  
"Yes thank you sir."  
  
"This is rather impressive, even for you, I have to say. I don't believe any other student has ever actually managed to be admitted to the infirmary before term starts. A new school record perhaps."  
  
"How long have I been asleep?"  
  
"According to Professor Snape, each dose gives you exactly eight hours sleep, he was very definite on that. You've had two, so sixteen hours. Before you ask, no he hasn't seen fit to enlighten me as to the circumstances leading to you being brought here, and I haven't enquired further, although if it is the way to make you take a nice long rest before term begins, it can't be such a bad thing."  
  
"Can I get up now?"  
  
"Tomorrow Harry, it's the evening at the moment, so you'd just be going to bed anyway. You've been under a lot of strain recently and you need to recover. Don't worry, I've been keeping Mark amused and our new Quidditch assistant has been continuing his lessons. I'm going to give you another two doses now. Oh yes, and Professor Snape said he would talk to you when you're up and about again."  
  
"Sir, wait, how is Profess. . . Remus?"  
  
"Much better, you'll be pleased to here. He'll be arriving here very soon himself, since he'll be taking up the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor again. It seems he is the only man for the post. It seems to have a bad reputation." Harry took his potion.  
  
"He's a really good teacher," he said, before falling asleep again, wondering just what Snape was going to say to him. It was unlikely to be pleasant, far more likely to be along the lines of 'stop acting like a three year old and learn this before more people get killed because of your inane stupidity'.  
  
Sev's POV  
  
"He's reached you," Dumbledore said gently. "Hasn't he?"  
  
There was no need to explain who he was talking about to the other man staring blindly out of the window of his office.  
  
"He looks too damned like Lily," Severus said, as matter of factly as he could.  
  
"As opposed to being a miniature version of James?"  
  
"Well, yes, I suppose."  
  
"Harry's inherited his father's talent, some of his looks, his love of Quidditch and his loyalty."  
  
"Loyalty!? James Potter?" Sev exclaimed incredulously.  
  
"Believe it or not Severus, James was painstakingly loyal to his friends. It takes great courage to be with a werewolf when he transforms, yet James did it regularly. He risked his life to save yours once."  
  
"That was to save his own skin!"  
  
"No, he was never in any danger until he came to rescue you. In saving you, he saved Sirius from expulsion and you from Remus and probably Remus from execution as a dangerous beast. Believe it or not, he saved you for your own sake, not for just for Sirius'. When he left his Animagus form, he was immediately in just as much danger as you were but he stayed with you until he was sure you were safe. That is correct, isn't it?"  
  
There was a long pause.  
  
"Yes. I wronged him, Lily too."  
  
"James was an idiot as a boy and possessed many of the failings that you ascribe to him, and he freely admitted to that. I wouldn't feel too bad about it. He was also an honorable man. There is nothing that you can do for him now, but so much you can do for Harry."  
  
"Such as what? The boy hates me."  
  
"Tell him stories. What he longs for more than anything is to know his parents. I saw how proud he used to look when Sirius said how much he was like James. You destroyed his knowledge of them in one fell swoop, its up to you to give it back."  
  
Dumbledore watched in satisfaction as Severus nodded thoughtfully, then continued,  
  
"Look a bit deeper into him and you'll see a lot of Lily there too, not just in the eyes. He has Lily's shyness, though he hides it better, her empathy, kindness and intelligence. Harry never wanted to be the Boy Who Lived - he had no choice. As far as I can tell, by wizarding law you and Remus would become his guardians after Sirius and Cassandra's deaths. Put in a bit of effort and I think you'll make excellent godfathers. You could start by washing your hair."  
  
Severus smiled, this sally breaking through his confused thoughts.  
  
"Yes Albus," he said obediently and left. The unusually thoughtful look on his face intrigued Remus Lupin when they passed in the corridor, but he wisely decided to ignore it and passed without comment. 


End file.
